Diary of a Country Lad - VW V6 4Motion & Citroen C4
Discussion
Picking up from where I left off on my last thread.....
'Ten years of American Motoring'
The hastily penned tale of a self confessed technically incompetent yet enthusiastic car bloke.
www.pistonheads.com/gassing/topic.asph=0&f=47&t=1429353&mid=159155&i=0&nmt=10+Years+of+American+Motoring+%E2%80%93+Audi%2FMorris%2FPorsche+&mid=159155|url
For those who can't be bothered to wade through the seven pages that briefly describes my automotive time in New Jersey a short summary follows.
Just an ordinary bloke, now forty-something, happily married, father to an energetic 19 month old son and co-owner of two terriers.
1998 - Went to the New York City Metro area to do something work related.
Drove a variety of hired Rent-A-Wrecks. Got very bored in the 'burbs.
1999-2003 Returned to Norfolk to do something work related while driving Fiat's Barchetta & Punto and a Landrover D-90.
2003 - Present: Returned to the NYC Metro area again to do something work related.
Got married to Ms. Whatty, bought and sold too many cars, helped to add to New Jersey's burgeoning population of 19 million = Master Whatty.
2014 - Returned to Norfolk for the greater good.
While my past is now, quite literally, a foreign country I'm now discovering my new Old World.
So that's me and here's our small, low cost and not very P.H car family.
Sourced by my brother prior to our arrival last month his brief was short, his budget v. limited.
Whatty: Low Key, Manual gearbox, fun factor trumps miles, colour irrelevant.
Ms. Whatty: Low key, Automatic, Lowish miles, NOT boring silver. Or white.
Turned out he was actually in possession of one but not the other.
1999 VW Golf V6 4Motion
Thanks to 7 Previous owners its a bit of a mongrel but not exactly a dog.
126k miles with lots of recent history and no advisories on the last M.O.T
Lovely super-comfy and hip-hugging big bolstered Recaro heated seats.
Having been a Saab owner and lower back pain sufferer my seating needs have been exceeded.
The sum of its parts might mean its worth more dead than alive.
But its definitely 'value-for-money' based on its bhp-pound ratio.
Being a high miles V.A.G product it will probably let me down.
And for Ms. Whatty, native New Jerseyan.
Professional artist and jewelry designer, occasional welder.
2005 Citroen C4 automatic
31K miles and climbing.
4 speed automatic
One owner with F.D.S.H
Now with a new cambelt just be on the safe side.
Gallic charm, oddball features.
Typically tinny noise when you ferme la porte.
I grew up in Lotus Cars Ltd country.
So simplify and add lightness.
Rear badge delete.
Cheers
Whatty
'Ten years of American Motoring'
The hastily penned tale of a self confessed technically incompetent yet enthusiastic car bloke.
www.pistonheads.com/gassing/topic.asph=0&f=47&t=1429353&mid=159155&i=0&nmt=10+Years+of+American+Motoring+%E2%80%93+Audi%2FMorris%2FPorsche+&mid=159155|url
For those who can't be bothered to wade through the seven pages that briefly describes my automotive time in New Jersey a short summary follows.
Just an ordinary bloke, now forty-something, happily married, father to an energetic 19 month old son and co-owner of two terriers.
1998 - Went to the New York City Metro area to do something work related.
Drove a variety of hired Rent-A-Wrecks. Got very bored in the 'burbs.
1999-2003 Returned to Norfolk to do something work related while driving Fiat's Barchetta & Punto and a Landrover D-90.
2003 - Present: Returned to the NYC Metro area again to do something work related.
Got married to Ms. Whatty, bought and sold too many cars, helped to add to New Jersey's burgeoning population of 19 million = Master Whatty.
2014 - Returned to Norfolk for the greater good.
While my past is now, quite literally, a foreign country I'm now discovering my new Old World.
So that's me and here's our small, low cost and not very P.H car family.
Sourced by my brother prior to our arrival last month his brief was short, his budget v. limited.
Whatty: Low Key, Manual gearbox, fun factor trumps miles, colour irrelevant.
Ms. Whatty: Low key, Automatic, Lowish miles, NOT boring silver. Or white.
Turned out he was actually in possession of one but not the other.
1999 VW Golf V6 4Motion
Thanks to 7 Previous owners its a bit of a mongrel but not exactly a dog.
126k miles with lots of recent history and no advisories on the last M.O.T
Lovely super-comfy and hip-hugging big bolstered Recaro heated seats.
Having been a Saab owner and lower back pain sufferer my seating needs have been exceeded.
The sum of its parts might mean its worth more dead than alive.
But its definitely 'value-for-money' based on its bhp-pound ratio.
Being a high miles V.A.G product it will probably let me down.
And for Ms. Whatty, native New Jerseyan.
Professional artist and jewelry designer, occasional welder.
2005 Citroen C4 automatic
31K miles and climbing.
4 speed automatic
One owner with F.D.S.H
Now with a new cambelt just be on the safe side.
Gallic charm, oddball features.
Typically tinny noise when you ferme la porte.
I grew up in Lotus Cars Ltd country.
So simplify and add lightness.
Rear badge delete.
Cheers
Whatty
Funk said:
My V6 4Mo was a great cruiser. A very inefficient way of turning petrol into noise (worse than the Focus ST and that's saying something..)
Always liked the shape of the MkIV and lusted after the R32. Maybe I'll scratch that itch one day. I have a habit of choosing cars which deliver not a lot of horsepower for the fuel they consume!
You make a good point about the 4Mo Sixer. Always liked the shape of the MkIV and lusted after the R32. Maybe I'll scratch that itch one day. I have a habit of choosing cars which deliver not a lot of horsepower for the fuel they consume!
This one however appears to have been tampered with. Hence the 'Mongrel' moniker. In fact it appears that my brother inadvertently bought someone's former 'track project' car.
For one thing its been lowered.
TBC....
Thanks for the input chaps.
Having dug through the plethora of receipts I found one from '09 for an Apex lowering kit.
Quite impressed with the history folder, all stamps up to date.
Norff & Sarff London addresses of dealers/indies suggest she's been about a bit.
My brother bought it in Essex. Don't know why.
He already has South Norfolk's largest collection of low mileage Mk 1 Audi TT's including a very nice QS with 25k miles with rare factory sat-nav.
Anyway... up she goes...
I assume that's an APEX lowering spring?
Quite busy under there. And dirty.
I'll have to get busy with the pressure washer.
As my only frame of reference for modified cars is my old 964 on Bilstein HD's/H&R Greens I'll say that the Fo'Mo ride is acceptable.
As the whole car cost less than a set of Bilstein HDs I'm prepared to make allowances.
Having dug through the plethora of receipts I found one from '09 for an Apex lowering kit.
Quite impressed with the history folder, all stamps up to date.
Norff & Sarff London addresses of dealers/indies suggest she's been about a bit.
My brother bought it in Essex. Don't know why.
He already has South Norfolk's largest collection of low mileage Mk 1 Audi TT's including a very nice QS with 25k miles with rare factory sat-nav.
Anyway... up she goes...
I assume that's an APEX lowering spring?
Quite busy under there. And dirty.
I'll have to get busy with the pressure washer.
As my only frame of reference for modified cars is my old 964 on Bilstein HD's/H&R Greens I'll say that the Fo'Mo ride is acceptable.
As the whole car cost less than a set of Bilstein HDs I'm prepared to make allowances.
C7 JFW said:
I've just purchased exactly the same, a 4Mo with 140k miles on the clock. I'll be interested to hear about your experience.
First up however, FULL service.
Glad to hear I'm not alone. In truth while stateside I was actually researching Alfa 145/6/7 as a cheap manual fix. My brother offered me dibs on this simply because it was sat idle. I'm not the only member of the family with CCBT. First up however, FULL service.
Having previously had a Mk IV GTi I was a bit reluctant until the V & 6 bit were mentioned.
The MK IV is a bit of a puddn* compared to the earlier series but the V6 does seem to add a bit of spice to the mix.
In my local driving environment I'm finding it quite tasty.
Edited to add>
Must remember, now back in Norfolk (rural county). Readers: U.S friends,neighbours, U.S Porsche folk Pelican'ista's etc.
- 'Puddn'- An olde Norfolk word for dessert commonly used to describe a fat girl/boy.
Edited to add>
Readership: International, I don't do FB/Twtr etc. Like the Golf I'm on the down low. And who wants to know what I had for pudding anyway? Oh wait.....
Edited by Whatty on Friday 10th October 18:59
Edited by Whatty on Friday 10th October 19:16
Hudson said:
That shock looks standard, so possibly increasing wear as the spring rate is different to what it's used to? happy to be corrected here.
Also dropping the 4mo without adjustable tie-arms creates negative camber at the back. Whilst this looks wikkid sik bruv, it'll also munch your tyres so it's worth seeing if that's been done as well.
Yeah, I thought the shocker was OEM, no fancy pants stuff here.Also dropping the 4mo without adjustable tie-arms creates negative camber at the back. Whilst this looks wikkid sik bruv, it'll also munch your tyres so it's worth seeing if that's been done as well.
Likewise I doubt that the tie arms/tie rods/ control arms are adjustable.
But if in anyone wants to correct me:
One more for luck.
But I think I've answered my own question.
Having been Stateside for eleven years I'll confess I reached for my Collins Oxford re: the 'wikkid sik bruv' reference.
Fail.
I did ask the newspaper boy about last weeks News Of The World but that's gone apparently.
I then moved on to my bedside porn stash.
C/O them I've determined that I probably won't be 'banging choonz' (sic)(innit?) at McD's anytime soon.
Likewise as the M.O.T is up next month I'm going to see what's what before determining a future course of action.
On the subject of the rear camber. Its not the usual VDUB crime scene.
Forensic investigation of the bill folder shows that 8 months/ X hundred miles after the purchase of the Apex kit in London SE6 an alignment took place in London SE4.
As owner, victim and lead investigator I'll concede that while the resulting rear camber is a mild 2 degrees 28'LH and 1 degree 49' RH I would like to avoid looking like a right tit.
So the regular springs might going back on.
Also, as lead investigator, I would like to ask you Mr. Hudson of Herts.
Two questions.
1. Have you ever lived in Bromley, Kent?
2. Did you slam my mongrel beatch?
The following evidence suggests you might have.
Exhibit A.
Exhibit B.
Feel free to drop by the station for a informal chat.
Bring some OEM springs and we'll go easy on you.
Sunday October 12th
32 days since arrival in UK.
Done a lot.
Worn a lot of hats.
Best man duties completed.
Reluctant tourist.
Normally I hate just 'looking' at things. Rather be 'doing' things.
But I'll occasionally take one for the team.
At least there was a bit of car content.
H.R.H the PoW.
Midget race car driver.
Who ever would have thought it.
Pest controller.
Holding the zero nicely.
Two shots. One hole.
Vintage BSA Airsporter Stutzen .22
Copywriter.
Pork. Yummy
911 GT3 RS 3.8
Still tons to do.
Need a home. Need an income.
Fortunately Ms. Whatty & I have portable skills.
Her's a bit more tangible than mine.
Book Designer.
Credits include the definitive U.S guide to turning left.
Artist.
Equine horsey things.
Small business owner.
Which pretty much encompasses all of the above.
Albeit on a slightly small scale.
Shop early for Christmas.
And avoid the rush.
Your wife/mistress/mother/girlfriend/sister/cousin/granddaughter/niece will love it.
https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/GwydionsGarden
Whatty?
Time to get busy. Time to get on the road.
Norfolk style.
Whatty...
Start your engine.
Hmmm...Which engine?
T.B.C
32 days since arrival in UK.
Done a lot.
Worn a lot of hats.
Best man duties completed.
Reluctant tourist.
Normally I hate just 'looking' at things. Rather be 'doing' things.
But I'll occasionally take one for the team.
At least there was a bit of car content.
H.R.H the PoW.
Midget race car driver.
Who ever would have thought it.
Pest controller.
Holding the zero nicely.
Two shots. One hole.
Vintage BSA Airsporter Stutzen .22
Copywriter.
Pork. Yummy
911 GT3 RS 3.8
Still tons to do.
Need a home. Need an income.
Fortunately Ms. Whatty & I have portable skills.
Her's a bit more tangible than mine.
Book Designer.
Credits include the definitive U.S guide to turning left.
Artist.
Equine horsey things.
Small business owner.
Which pretty much encompasses all of the above.
Albeit on a slightly small scale.
Shop early for Christmas.
And avoid the rush.
Your wife/mistress/mother/girlfriend/sister/cousin/granddaughter/niece will love it.
https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/GwydionsGarden
Whatty?
Time to get busy. Time to get on the road.
Norfolk style.
Whatty...
Start your engine.
Hmmm...Which engine?
T.B.C
ManOpener said:
My best mate has exactly the same Airsporter. Inherited it from his father. Currently fitted with a Hawke 3-9x40 Airmax.
Nice thing to remember his Dad by. Edited by ManOpener on Sunday 12th October 12:30
Compared to the new style stuff its a bit Model T but still packs a punch.
Bought mine at a car boot sale 20 years ago and now showing a bit of patina on the stock. Maybe a project for the long winter nights ahead.
Cheers, Whatty
Edited to add another pic.
Edited by Whatty on Monday 13th October 09:03
PHers living in rural England will find the following a bit of head scratcher. What follows is a not very fast drive in the country. Its more a motoring ramble and something they might take for granted on a daily basis.
Likewise Urban dwellers will simply mutter 'yokel' before wandering off to find faster fruitier fare as I make visual comparisons with my old surburban locale in New Jersey with that of motoring in deepest Norfolk. More for my benefit than anyone elses.
Eleven years ago I was firmly in the rural camp. My commute a quick 12 mile B-road blast into the centre of a fine city. Size wise its more 'Championship' than 'Premiership'.
Those 12 miles at early o' clock were, in hindsight, a bit of a thrill.
Little traffic, sweeping bends, off camber blind corners and undulating straights made for a teenage playground where the Bros. & Sister Whatty learnt the joy and hidden perils of fast-ish driving.
On the nursery slopes of FWD hand-me-downs we learnt the driving basics. From a wheezing 998cc Mini in Black Tulip, through the original Whatty's 4 speed Mazda to a former Motability Metro we all got the hang of it. Tests passed we duly left the automotive nest, graduating to more interesting rides. While I can't speak for the other three I certainly executed most of our collective nine lives at the wheel.
A rotten then refurbished BMW 2002, restored MG's '66 BGT and '69 Midget, a woeful secondhand 1300 X-flow Dutton Phaeton, which even through squinted eyes didn't resemble a real Seven; that humble garage saw them all.
Originally home to Ma Whatty's 70's Mini Clubman, and a fraternal first engine start. The temptation of keys dangling too much, the sudden roar of a confined A-Series propelled a seven and ten year old back in front of the Banana Splits on ITV before you could say 'pre-ignition run on'. Thank god she always left it in neutral.
The 'big boys' never made it inside, twin cam Fiat 132, workhorse '72 Rangie, the fabulous Jensen Interceptor, the Mk II Scirrocco GTi, a sensible Saab 9000i, the E28 535i. Oh that 535i.
Pa Whatty really shouldn't have entrusted me with the keys the night before it was PX'd.
M Sport trim, RWD, automatic + sports button.
3.5 litre / 220 bhp, nothing now, far too much to entrust to a spotty 17 year old then.
W to W via K & another W. Not far, 8 miles perhaps. The performance a revelation, no manual shift to worry about, throttle down and hang on.
I swear that '40' sign wasn't there in 1988.
The bends definitely were. But it was inky black that night.
Much safer to straighten them in the dark.
If he knew how fast I was going when I popped my opposite lock cherry in a car he'd kill me.
Good reflexes? b
ks, I was lucky.
I knew a bit about the oversteer thanks to a couple of teenage years driving a VW LT35 van. RWD, slow AND loud. With a full load of 'stuff' it would top out at 65-70mph.
Empty it would only vmax 75, but it would also slip and slide beautifully on wet and snow covered roads. With a funf cylinder diesel between the front seats and five speed tranny behind it sounded like a boiler suited Audi Quattro on the overrun. With no weight it handled like an incredibly benign Escort in the wet.
By then my folks had another budding PHer in the form of my younger brother to worry about. Now with a fourteen ear old daughter of his own little bro' has horror stories aplenty to tell.
The now very tired 1972 Mini 1000, Black Tulip, with still only two owners on the log book, failing oil pressure and three up on a Saturday night in October (how apt) went into this bend at 60 mph.
It is much wider now, and it appears straighter, the six foot deep roadside ditch filled in. Who knows what caused the little deep purple buzz box to collide with one verge and then bounce off the other before coming to rest nose down in four feet of ditch water. We can definitely rule out surplus power. 38bhp when new.
Pre-mobile phone era and concerned Pa Whatty (only-son-of-the-original-Whatty) and I set off in search of the wannabe party goers. We found the three damp bodies sober in a dry farm house nearby and then spent an hour recovering the now crumpled but still start-able car with the help of never-very-cheerful local Chris and his trusty recovery Ford 7.5 tonner.
Registered in Norn Iron Black Tulip was driven off to a new life, straightened and hand painted in maroon and ivory. I used to see it occasionally, crabbing down the road like a lobster covered in custard.
The sale of the registration AIB 5575 made more than the car.
Somebody with serial amnesia in Newcastle bought the plates.
We know he had amnesia as he not only neglected to tell Swansea but he also regularly forgot where he'd parked his Mercedes.
A confused Ma Whatty got untold parking tickets for a year.
Present Day.
Pa Whatty, Baby Bimmer 120i with slush box, sensible motoring for the Saga generation.
These properly positioned hands showed us the art of the handbrake turn on snow, gravel and occasionally tarmac.
We nearly lost him four years ago, albeit not in a Mercedes or Newcastle.
Or a ditch.
Taken ill the day after my sister's wedding he was admitted to hospital. Two days later I had to leave for the U.S for work.
An emotional four days, gain a brother-in-law on Saturday, almost bury your Dad on Tuesday.
But thanks to modern medicine and the NHS we've still got him and a nice new scar to boot.
Plus with new found energy he's now got a new 45 year old girlfriend called Dawn.
That's younger than me. Racy eh?
Traditional style Norfolk Broads weekender/racer.
Pitch pine on mahogany.
Personally I preferred the last one he had.
In truth I'm just glad for chance to sail with him again.
Cheers, Whatty
Edited to add 'Dawn'
Likewise Urban dwellers will simply mutter 'yokel' before wandering off to find faster fruitier fare as I make visual comparisons with my old surburban locale in New Jersey with that of motoring in deepest Norfolk. More for my benefit than anyone elses.
Eleven years ago I was firmly in the rural camp. My commute a quick 12 mile B-road blast into the centre of a fine city. Size wise its more 'Championship' than 'Premiership'.
Those 12 miles at early o' clock were, in hindsight, a bit of a thrill.
Little traffic, sweeping bends, off camber blind corners and undulating straights made for a teenage playground where the Bros. & Sister Whatty learnt the joy and hidden perils of fast-ish driving.
On the nursery slopes of FWD hand-me-downs we learnt the driving basics. From a wheezing 998cc Mini in Black Tulip, through the original Whatty's 4 speed Mazda to a former Motability Metro we all got the hang of it. Tests passed we duly left the automotive nest, graduating to more interesting rides. While I can't speak for the other three I certainly executed most of our collective nine lives at the wheel.
A rotten then refurbished BMW 2002, restored MG's '66 BGT and '69 Midget, a woeful secondhand 1300 X-flow Dutton Phaeton, which even through squinted eyes didn't resemble a real Seven; that humble garage saw them all.
Originally home to Ma Whatty's 70's Mini Clubman, and a fraternal first engine start. The temptation of keys dangling too much, the sudden roar of a confined A-Series propelled a seven and ten year old back in front of the Banana Splits on ITV before you could say 'pre-ignition run on'. Thank god she always left it in neutral.
The 'big boys' never made it inside, twin cam Fiat 132, workhorse '72 Rangie, the fabulous Jensen Interceptor, the Mk II Scirrocco GTi, a sensible Saab 9000i, the E28 535i. Oh that 535i.
Pa Whatty really shouldn't have entrusted me with the keys the night before it was PX'd.
M Sport trim, RWD, automatic + sports button.
3.5 litre / 220 bhp, nothing now, far too much to entrust to a spotty 17 year old then.
W to W via K & another W. Not far, 8 miles perhaps. The performance a revelation, no manual shift to worry about, throttle down and hang on.
I swear that '40' sign wasn't there in 1988.
The bends definitely were. But it was inky black that night.
Much safer to straighten them in the dark.
If he knew how fast I was going when I popped my opposite lock cherry in a car he'd kill me.
Good reflexes? b
ks, I was lucky.I knew a bit about the oversteer thanks to a couple of teenage years driving a VW LT35 van. RWD, slow AND loud. With a full load of 'stuff' it would top out at 65-70mph.
Empty it would only vmax 75, but it would also slip and slide beautifully on wet and snow covered roads. With a funf cylinder diesel between the front seats and five speed tranny behind it sounded like a boiler suited Audi Quattro on the overrun. With no weight it handled like an incredibly benign Escort in the wet.
By then my folks had another budding PHer in the form of my younger brother to worry about. Now with a fourteen ear old daughter of his own little bro' has horror stories aplenty to tell.
The now very tired 1972 Mini 1000, Black Tulip, with still only two owners on the log book, failing oil pressure and three up on a Saturday night in October (how apt) went into this bend at 60 mph.
It is much wider now, and it appears straighter, the six foot deep roadside ditch filled in. Who knows what caused the little deep purple buzz box to collide with one verge and then bounce off the other before coming to rest nose down in four feet of ditch water. We can definitely rule out surplus power. 38bhp when new.
Pre-mobile phone era and concerned Pa Whatty (only-son-of-the-original-Whatty) and I set off in search of the wannabe party goers. We found the three damp bodies sober in a dry farm house nearby and then spent an hour recovering the now crumpled but still start-able car with the help of never-very-cheerful local Chris and his trusty recovery Ford 7.5 tonner.
Registered in Norn Iron Black Tulip was driven off to a new life, straightened and hand painted in maroon and ivory. I used to see it occasionally, crabbing down the road like a lobster covered in custard.
The sale of the registration AIB 5575 made more than the car.
Somebody with serial amnesia in Newcastle bought the plates.
We know he had amnesia as he not only neglected to tell Swansea but he also regularly forgot where he'd parked his Mercedes.
A confused Ma Whatty got untold parking tickets for a year.
Present Day.
Pa Whatty, Baby Bimmer 120i with slush box, sensible motoring for the Saga generation.
These properly positioned hands showed us the art of the handbrake turn on snow, gravel and occasionally tarmac.
We nearly lost him four years ago, albeit not in a Mercedes or Newcastle.
Or a ditch.
Taken ill the day after my sister's wedding he was admitted to hospital. Two days later I had to leave for the U.S for work.
An emotional four days, gain a brother-in-law on Saturday, almost bury your Dad on Tuesday.
But thanks to modern medicine and the NHS we've still got him and a nice new scar to boot.
Plus with new found energy he's now got a new 45 year old girlfriend called Dawn.
That's younger than me. Racy eh?
Traditional style Norfolk Broads weekender/racer.
Pitch pine on mahogany.
Personally I preferred the last one he had.
In truth I'm just glad for chance to sail with him again.
Cheers, Whatty
Edited to add 'Dawn'
Edited by Whatty on Monday 13th October 20:37
Phew, no comments, looks like I got away with that last posting. Oozing too much sentimentality for PH? Ma Whatty read it with a tear in her eye.
But only for the reminder of how much cash the Old Man spunked on car's and boats over the years.
Mustn't digress.
September 29th 2014
Mini-road trip.
Errands to run, favours to repay, old sights to see.
Time to tool up.
Nice to able to leave the driveway without my New Jersey driving 'license'.
It was a brave guy or gal who left their NJ home without ID. A police stop without it was NOT going to end in a politely issued 7 day producer.
Shell card, points may mean prizes apparently.
Tool boxes.
Lenovo Kneepad, Ye Olde iPhone.
Vodafone coverage in Norfolk seems hopeless.
Indestructible Filson luggage.
Will hold a VW engine if your local VAG dealer has run out of shipping crates.
Office keys.
This is going to be a busman's holiday.
Country commute so we'll be wafting avec Le Citroen.
Pork fob memento the only thing I've ever held on to having sold a car.
Riding shotgun.
Whatty Dog #1.
Personal assistant, st passenger.
One of these will keep the vom at bay.
Mile 1. Pit stop.
Sit at pump for two minutes before remembering no attended service.
Pumping your own gas in NJ illegal. Not safe for civilians.
Leave kiosk. My first UK PH spot.
Approach driver.
Bemused Seven driver not actually a PHer.
Returning to the 'North' after a Hethel trackday fun.
Five hours, in there on A roads and motorways on a damp day?
Norfolk cowboy out for a stroll.
'FFS hurry up mate' Things to do.
Must adjust to a slightly slower pace.
On the road, finally.
Cruise control on.
At 64 mph the fuel consumption is tolerable.
Meds working. WD#1 doing fine.
First stop.
Somebody else has a project. Needs something stripping.
Next stop somewhere else.
But wait, whats that noise?
A wailing engine?
Can't resist.
Good old Snett, looking a bit 'corporate' these days under the MSV umbrella. Possibly not a bad thing. Spent my weekend yoof here in the '80 & '90's.
Parc ferme.
WD#1 can go no further.
Shank's Pony for me.
The Bomb Hole. A reminder of the circuit's former use as a home to the USAAF in WW2.
Norfolk and Suffolk are dotted with airfields used by the mighty 8th Airforce.
I could have sworn there was a grandstand here once.
Normally its either windy and pissing down.
Or windy and scorching hot. And dusty.
Today its just very still and misty.
Not very quiet.
Track day? Test day?
Dunno, no time to find out.
E30 M3 the first to appear out of the gloom.
Hard on the heels of the Jerry.
A pair of plucky little Brits.
Cue 633 Squadron theme tune.
Cossie at work. Used to watch these competing in the Willhire 24 Hours back in the day. Freebie tickets blagged from a local shopkeeper.
2 tickets could get 3 impoverished locals in through careful packing of camping gear.
Crap photographer.
Neat Clio.
Out of time. WD#1 in car.
Striking sculpture testimony to Yanks of Old.
Little known fact, James 'Jimmy' Stewart, actor was based at RAF Old Buckenham with the 453rd Heavy Bomb Group.
Never mind Vmax, when these intrepid youths hit V1 the odds of a safe landing were stacked against them. Ironic really, those boys trundling reluctantly down the same perimeter tracks others now eagerly race down.
Must drive carefully.
Note to diary.
Bedford Trackday
October 25th
Prep Mongrel but not WD#1.
But only for the reminder of how much cash the Old Man spunked on car's and boats over the years.
Mustn't digress.
September 29th 2014
Mini-road trip.
Errands to run, favours to repay, old sights to see.
Time to tool up.
Nice to able to leave the driveway without my New Jersey driving 'license'.
It was a brave guy or gal who left their NJ home without ID. A police stop without it was NOT going to end in a politely issued 7 day producer.
Shell card, points may mean prizes apparently.
Tool boxes.
Lenovo Kneepad, Ye Olde iPhone.
Vodafone coverage in Norfolk seems hopeless.
Indestructible Filson luggage.
Will hold a VW engine if your local VAG dealer has run out of shipping crates.
Office keys.
This is going to be a busman's holiday.
Country commute so we'll be wafting avec Le Citroen.
Pork fob memento the only thing I've ever held on to having sold a car.
Riding shotgun.
Whatty Dog #1.
Personal assistant, s
t passenger.One of these will keep the vom at bay.
Mile 1. Pit stop.
Sit at pump for two minutes before remembering no attended service.
Pumping your own gas in NJ illegal. Not safe for civilians.
Leave kiosk. My first UK PH spot.
Approach driver.
Bemused Seven driver not actually a PHer.
Returning to the 'North' after a Hethel trackday fun.
Five hours, in there on A roads and motorways on a damp day?
Norfolk cowboy out for a stroll.
'FFS hurry up mate' Things to do.
Must adjust to a slightly slower pace.
On the road, finally.
Cruise control on.
At 64 mph the fuel consumption is tolerable.
Meds working. WD#1 doing fine.
First stop.
Somebody else has a project. Needs something stripping.
Next stop somewhere else.
But wait, whats that noise?
A wailing engine?
Can't resist.
Good old Snett, looking a bit 'corporate' these days under the MSV umbrella. Possibly not a bad thing. Spent my weekend yoof here in the '80 & '90's.
Parc ferme.
WD#1 can go no further.
Shank's Pony for me.
The Bomb Hole. A reminder of the circuit's former use as a home to the USAAF in WW2.
Norfolk and Suffolk are dotted with airfields used by the mighty 8th Airforce.
I could have sworn there was a grandstand here once.
Normally its either windy and pissing down.
Or windy and scorching hot. And dusty.
Today its just very still and misty.
Not very quiet.
Track day? Test day?
Dunno, no time to find out.
E30 M3 the first to appear out of the gloom.
Hard on the heels of the Jerry.
A pair of plucky little Brits.
Cue 633 Squadron theme tune.
Cossie at work. Used to watch these competing in the Willhire 24 Hours back in the day. Freebie tickets blagged from a local shopkeeper.
2 tickets could get 3 impoverished locals in through careful packing of camping gear.
Crap photographer.
Neat Clio.
Out of time. WD#1 in car.
Striking sculpture testimony to Yanks of Old.
Little known fact, James 'Jimmy' Stewart, actor was based at RAF Old Buckenham with the 453rd Heavy Bomb Group.
Never mind Vmax, when these intrepid youths hit V1 the odds of a safe landing were stacked against them. Ironic really, those boys trundling reluctantly down the same perimeter tracks others now eagerly race down.
Must drive carefully.
Note to diary.
Bedford Trackday
October 25th
Prep Mongrel but not WD#1.
coopedup said:
Still really enjoying reading this, please keep up the good work! 
Any plans in the future for a bit more exciting wheels perhaps?
Hi Mr.CoopedupAny plans in the future for a bit more exciting wheels perhaps?
Appreciate you taking the time to post on my rambling thread.
Future exciting wheels? Hmmm... In all honesty I doubt the immediate future will see anything very exciting in my garage. If only that I don't have one at present.
My immediate focus is going to be work and supporting Ms. Whatty as we start to put our roots down over here. Easy for me, a challenge for her.
So little time for four wheeled frolics and I still don't do spannering.
Though I did pick up a wheel brace and towing eye for the Mongrel last week
Was it you who asked on the other thread about bringing a car back from the U.S with me?
I rather wish I'd bought the Morris Mini home as I spent this afternoon with some folk very close to home doing some rather neat stuff for the A-series. And also for M52's/K Series etc......
Which is yet another story.
For now I'll be happily flogging the FoMo round East Anglia.
Sometimes its where you drive not what you drive*
Cheers, Whatty.
- Or shoot.
Sirf said:
I made an account just to comment on this thread - I hope that shows just how much I love it.
First of, as a person who's always wanted to move to the US and who lived in New York for a couple of months + a month in Tom's River New Jersey your previous adventure thread was a mighty good read.
Keep looking at this thread on a daily basis waiting for further updates. Wish I had something equally interesting to share but unfortunately I don't own a car and all my adventures take place on pedal powered two wheels..
Well I'm humbled to think that someone would take the time to sign up to PH cos of me, thank you Mr. Sirf for your kind words.First of, as a person who's always wanted to move to the US and who lived in New York for a couple of months + a month in Tom's River New Jersey your previous adventure thread was a mighty good read.
Keep looking at this thread on a daily basis waiting for further updates. Wish I had something equally interesting to share but unfortunately I don't own a car and all my adventures take place on pedal powered two wheels..
Toms River, NJ eh?
Uncanny it was Toms River where I looked at a Mark I Mini back in 2008.
So a month in Toms River would have seen you taking in the sights of the Jersey Shore, Red Bank, Asbury Park (see the Stone Pony Club?) Belmar, Seaside Heights etc ?
The trip down the Garden State Parkway to see 'this' Mini was memorable for all the wrong reasons and it was really Ms Whatty's first insight into the twisted world of the classic/collectors/project car.
Albeit somebody else's in this case.
Having spotted the ad on a forum I'd duly made a mid-week appointment to view it after work. This necessitated a 90 minute drive in rush hour and a barely digestable McD's from the quaintly named but in reality ghetto-like Cheesequake rest stop en route with a bemused Ms Whatty riding shotgun.
Pulling up at the sellers house in Toms River I spied the Austin lurking in the open garage and knew immediately that it had been a wasted trip. In fact if I hadn't called to let the vendor know I was outside I would have bundled Ms Whatty back into the car and left to salvage something of our evening.
Obviously PH is crammed with tales of wasted journeys thanks to dishonest sellers that are blinded by the $$$ that they've invested in their hobby.
This particular guy was no exception and I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm for the disaster that I now had to politely examine. One man's meat is another man's pathology lab.
A picture can say a thousand words.
In this case - Turd x1000.
Imagine a car that has been used for training 1st year apprentice paint sprayers to practice on and....Actually that's very unfair to apprentice sprayers.
Consider the result of giving two five year old's a catering size drum of 1970's P-38 filler and a selection of mismatched aerosol cans containing a variety of ivory/ white paint and you get some idea of the result.
The panels that didn't have drips had orange peel, those that were free of drips'n'peel had been filled with clag. I can only assume that it was the excess of filler in the sills that prevented the doors from shutting. The Grp 2 arches had been riveted on and then creatively backfilled with a poorly wielded trowel.
With the seller assuring us that it was a genuine B.M.C RHD car the shop soiled lemon was started up and reversed into the driveway leaving Ms Whatty and self wreathed in a cloud of oil smoke so as to give us 'a better look.'
I didn't want to. Suppressing the urge to point out the bleeding obvious I politely admired the red carpet which was quite well fitted before turning to the eagerly proffered engine bay.
The engine bay was dirty, ditto the engine. I felt dirty just looking at the 1275 BL Goldseal exchange lump. In truth it was beyond embarrassing, the chrome rocker cover and polished single S.U carb, jewels in a cesspit of dirt and oil.
Time elapsed so far? About 4 minutes.
Would I like a drive?
No but thank you.
Ms Whatty, in a fit of politeness, gave me the look that told me not to be rude so thirty seconds later I'm piloting a P-38 Austin down a side street, grinding gears and killing mosquito's with 20W50. I 'kin hate 'squito's so not all bad.
After 500 yards I could take no more and pushed the brake pedal. Clearly a Democrat the car pulled so hard to the left it could actually have been a 'genwine Commie'.
I duly voted to U-turn and do what I should have done two hours previously. Go home.
The ASKING price for this gem? $13800.00
Vendor obviously an Everley Brothers fan.
Thank you Sirf, for the trip down memory lane.
Cheers
Whatty
alangtt said:
Yessss your back, I checked the 10 year thread, disappointed there was no update, but saw the link to this one.
Bookmarked.
Welcome back. Where do you prefer to live. Does mrs W like it here?
Hi Mr.alangttBookmarked.
Welcome back. Where do you prefer to live. Does mrs W like it here?
Nice to see you again
Still loving your French Bread?
11 years without sight of a Renault/Peugeot/Citroen has been odd.
I'm seeing them in a whole new light these days. Usually foggy.
Deux Cheveaux
In answer to your question: Its nice to be home but its taking a bit of adjustment.
Lots of things have changed in Nelson's County since I left 'for good' in 2003.
For a start I can remember when all this was fields.
As for Ms and Master Whatty's take on the UK? Good question.
They blew (literally) back into town on Monday after three weeks Stateside. Quite a few loose ends needed to be tied up in the Garden State despite our September D-day deadline. Completion of our house sale for one thing, saying goodbye to the neighbours another. Sadly one of them probably won't be around next time we visit.
Goodbye Big-Chief-Bob-Across-The-Street. Fair winds on the other side.
Carpe diem.
Been up to lots in their absence.
Like my old career the last month has had a lot of automotive and engine content.
Very enjoyable, very Pistonheads.
Working on my Uncle skills.
The only police car I saw that week.
Refreshing.
Kicked some tyres.
'Salesman' told me a good tale or two.
Enthusiastically showed my his new project.
Heavy Metal Norfolk style.
And one of his older restorations.
Better than new OEM fit and finish. MWStewart would approve.
Last time I was this close to a crane I was talking shop in Kentucky.
The safety yellow a bit brighter, the conversation more profitable.
But strangely less satisfying.
Rediscovering forgotten Britain. 'Politeness costs nothing' - quite.
Even the road signs are apologetic.
Doing some freelance 'stuff' for Mr. Arms Dealer
He's scratching that Alfa itch.
Serious business: the obscured registration is mandatory given his client base.
Business trip?
Fun trip?
Can't really decide. Comfy GT seats regardless.
The East Anglian Fens, the Badlands of the United Kingdom.
Big Sky Country - very flat.
A girl here is only a virgin if she can ran faster than her brother and talk faster than her Uncle. (ye olde E.Ang:joke c.1745 AD)
Bloody paperwork. Mr. Arms Dealer (and Exporter) hates meddling bureaucrats.
"Price and end user certificates on application sir"
'We play with guns and people get hurt'
Quote from a work related discussion I had back in the Summer.
Spare a thought/time/cash for 'Our Boys & Girls' as we get into poppy season.
www.walkingwiththewounded.org.uk
SUPPORT not sympathy needed.
Cheers
Whatty.
Saturday October 25th 2014
Up before the lark, very early.
Need to kill an hour.
Really missed reading UK newspapers.
Appropriate topic for homeless Family Whatty.
Currently our project de jour.
Alpine scenery a bit lacking in Norfolk.
Might be a good thing.
Previous winter sport road trip efforts with Ms Whatty worthy of a post.
Get well soon Herr. Schumacher.
BIG news story in the South Norfolk Mercury.
This doesn't surprise me, more charity shops than real shops downtown.
I reckon it was those slags from the donkey retirement place wot done it.
Hen sanctuary? I'll provide a toasty home for them c/o Chez Gas Mark 4.
05:50 am
VW 4Motion
A11 Southbound
Very dark. Love the lack of urban light pollution
Very quiet. CD player missing. Radio 2 lady jock a bit annoying.
Apex springs and sectional concrete don't make for a good snap.
A14 Westbound
Not quite sure where I'm headed, time to turn on the Beatch-in-the-box.
Antique Garmin stuck in Sheila-the-Australian's mode, trusty companion on our Eyetalian honeymoon. "Take next right on to the Ortostraaada"
A428 - Bedfordshire
Getting close but I need breakfast. Fed up with rip off roadside catering c/o Costabucks I'm rediscovering the delights of the layby bap wagon.
Support your independent local business.
Good start to the day.
Mug of tea, bacon roll, investigate slightly odd 2nd-3rd gear change.
Olympus reaches the parts I can't.
Hmmm, no time or expertise to properly diagnose.
This might be the culprit. 126k miles x XXX gearshifts?
Behind schedule. fk it.
If in doubt Duct Tape or Cable Tie.
Sorted. Feels better? Dunno, placebo effect.
Hurried "Arrivedeci" to tea wagon and Napoli fan man.
Got a date with another van man.
Cheers Whatty.
Up before the lark, very early.
Need to kill an hour.
Really missed reading UK newspapers.
Appropriate topic for homeless Family Whatty.
Currently our project de jour.
Alpine scenery a bit lacking in Norfolk.
Might be a good thing.
Previous winter sport road trip efforts with Ms Whatty worthy of a post.
Get well soon Herr. Schumacher.
BIG news story in the South Norfolk Mercury.
This doesn't surprise me, more charity shops than real shops downtown.
I reckon it was those slags from the donkey retirement place wot done it.
Hen sanctuary? I'll provide a toasty home for them c/o Chez Gas Mark 4.
05:50 am
VW 4Motion
A11 Southbound
Very dark. Love the lack of urban light pollution
Very quiet. CD player missing. Radio 2 lady jock a bit annoying.
Apex springs and sectional concrete don't make for a good snap.
A14 Westbound
Not quite sure where I'm headed, time to turn on the Beatch-in-the-box.
Antique Garmin stuck in Sheila-the-Australian's mode, trusty companion on our Eyetalian honeymoon. "Take next right on to the Ortostraaada"
A428 - Bedfordshire
Getting close but I need breakfast. Fed up with rip off roadside catering c/o Costabucks I'm rediscovering the delights of the layby bap wagon.
Support your independent local business.
Good start to the day.
Mug of tea, bacon roll, investigate slightly odd 2nd-3rd gear change.
Olympus reaches the parts I can't.
Hmmm, no time or expertise to properly diagnose.
This might be the culprit. 126k miles x XXX gearshifts?
Behind schedule. f
k it.If in doubt Duct Tape or Cable Tie.
Sorted. Feels better? Dunno, placebo effect.
Hurried "Arrivedeci" to tea wagon and Napoli fan man.
Got a date with another van man.
Cheers Whatty.
Saturday October 25th.
Bedford Autodrome.
Well this must be the place. Not as late as I feared.
The road to get here was not that long - 88 odd miles.
The time waiting to get here was a bit longer - 6 years.
So another 20 minutes won't kill me.
And the view from my new office is infinitely better.
But why are we queuing?
Aaah - noise testing.
No more than 101 dB.
Nice man in safety yellow wants 4500rpm.
VW FoMo V6 manages a paltry 77dB.
No chickening out for me then.
Trackday here I come.
Of course they do have trackdays in the U.S.A or HIGH PERFORMANCE DRIVING EVENTS as their catchily titled.
Time, distance and weather conspired to prevent me pressing my NJ garage queens into active track duty.
No matter....
Have low sprung chaviot, will track it.
Snetterton circuit in Norfolk is very close to my heart and home. Bedford though makes for a handy rendezvous with Brother Breadvan and his VERY merry band.
They've brought BIG guns and a lot of track time to the fight.
BMW Z3M
M3 CSL
997 Turbo
GT3 RS
MGB GT V8 Sebring replica
By comparison Whatty & FoMo combined equate to a wooden chip fork.
Refreshingly brief driver briefing over.
(Common sense, you can't always buy it)
Participating in a Northern New Jersey Region Porsche Club of America Chapter High Performance Driving Event (or N.N.J.R.P.C.A.C.H.P.D.E for short) will necessitate a trip to the local OPC or recognized indie for a technical inspection. Safety first and all that.
Not sure if they charge for it, sneaking suspicion they do.
As this is a UK trackday and not a N.N.J.R.P.C.A.C.H.P.D.E I've opted for a trip to see the ever cheerful Mr. Grumpy at the local M.O.T station two days prior.
I must be the first person who loudly demanded he pay v. close attention to the brakes, steering and suspension mounting points .
40 minutes + 40 quid = PASS.
1 advisory - crack in passenger side mirror.
Pitlane preparation.
1. Insert front towing eye.
2. Remove boat anchor spare wheel. Weighs 38 pounds / 17 kilos .
3. Realize U.S tire pressure gauge in PSI not BAR.
Europe, its the little differences.
Driver preparation.
1. Check out hospitality suite. Free hot chocolate - wonderful.
2. Check unblemished helmet, 3 years and 2 hurricanes since the Sports Car Club of America deemed it safe to dodge cones in. Feeling a bit virginal myself.
Time for a sighting lap.
Brother Breadvan rides shotgun.
Bedford GT Circuit. Very flat.
Very long.3.6 miles.
Gran Turismo is right.
Wanted: Navigator.
TBC.
House viewing calls.
Wanted. 3/4 bedroom period home detached with 'sheds'.
Cheers Whatty.
Bedford Autodrome.
Well this must be the place. Not as late as I feared.
The road to get here was not that long - 88 odd miles.
The time waiting to get here was a bit longer - 6 years.
So another 20 minutes won't kill me.
And the view from my new office is infinitely better.
But why are we queuing?
Aaah - noise testing.
No more than 101 dB.
Nice man in safety yellow wants 4500rpm.
VW FoMo V6 manages a paltry 77dB.
No chickening out for me then.
Trackday here I come.
Of course they do have trackdays in the U.S.A or HIGH PERFORMANCE DRIVING EVENTS as their catchily titled.
Time, distance and weather conspired to prevent me pressing my NJ garage queens into active track duty.
No matter....
Have low sprung chaviot, will track it.
Snetterton circuit in Norfolk is very close to my heart and home. Bedford though makes for a handy rendezvous with Brother Breadvan and his VERY merry band.
They've brought BIG guns and a lot of track time to the fight.
BMW Z3M
M3 CSL
997 Turbo
GT3 RS
MGB GT V8 Sebring replica
By comparison Whatty & FoMo combined equate to a wooden chip fork.
Refreshingly brief driver briefing over.
(Common sense, you can't always buy it)
Participating in a Northern New Jersey Region Porsche Club of America Chapter High Performance Driving Event (or N.N.J.R.P.C.A.C.H.P.D.E for short) will necessitate a trip to the local OPC or recognized indie for a technical inspection. Safety first and all that.
Not sure if they charge for it, sneaking suspicion they do.
As this is a UK trackday and not a N.N.J.R.P.C.A.C.H.P.D.E I've opted for a trip to see the ever cheerful Mr. Grumpy at the local M.O.T station two days prior.
I must be the first person who loudly demanded he pay v. close attention to the brakes, steering and suspension mounting points .
40 minutes + 40 quid = PASS.
1 advisory - crack in passenger side mirror.
Pitlane preparation.
1. Insert front towing eye.
2. Remove boat anchor spare wheel. Weighs 38 pounds / 17 kilos .
3. Realize U.S tire pressure gauge in PSI not BAR.
Europe, its the little differences.
Driver preparation.
1. Check out hospitality suite. Free hot chocolate - wonderful.
2. Check unblemished helmet, 3 years and 2 hurricanes since the Sports Car Club of America deemed it safe to dodge cones in. Feeling a bit virginal myself.
Time for a sighting lap.
Brother Breadvan rides shotgun.
Bedford GT Circuit. Very flat.
Very long.3.6 miles.
Gran Turismo is right.
Wanted: Navigator.
TBC.
House viewing calls.
Wanted. 3/4 bedroom period home detached with 'sheds'.
Cheers Whatty.
Edited by Whatty on Saturday 1st November 08:24
Saturday October 25th
Bedford Autodrome
GT Circuit.
Pitlane
'Whatty and VW FoMo V6, A Comedy of Errors'
Act 1.
Scene 1.
A lack of GoPro or other securely mounted recording device means that there is no evidence to confirm or deny my high performance driving talent.
Honesty though is the best policy so I'll come clean. And unlike a bad workman I won't blame my tools.
Surrounded by faster cars and drivers an open pitlane day is for this TD virgin quite an intimidating environment.
Driving the right line in principal is easy, in practice surrounded by faster drivers I'm experiencing sensory overload while doing it all wrong. Braking too lightly too late, turning in too soon. In short overdriving leaves me feeling underwhelmed.
Learning curves? More like a vertical straight line. Fast in slow out, go immediately to the back of the following track pack.
Track dunce in the naughty corner.
In the pantheon of great drivers I will not be compared to the great Al Unser.
Around the 3.6 miles of Bedford I'm more Al Zheimer, after 3 laps I'm still not sure what corner will be appearing next.
What I am certain of is that this is fun, my bargain FoMo V6 is quick enough, its Recaro's super supportive and that my overall priority is not spoiling the fun of others. There's some very fast machinery out here.
Racing Radicals, Caterhams, M3's, 911's all appear and disappear at a startling rate. Sticking to the right and keeping out of their way seems to be the best line to take.
Keeping my foot hard down while my eyes glued to the side mirrors on the straights takes its toll.
Time I think for a change of role.
Exit pit lane on right.
Stand in wings and admire other actors.
End of Scene 1 Act 1.
Bedford Autodrome
GT Circuit.
Pitlane
'Whatty and VW FoMo V6, A Comedy of Errors'
Act 1.
Scene 1.
A lack of GoPro or other securely mounted recording device means that there is no evidence to confirm or deny my high performance driving talent.
Honesty though is the best policy so I'll come clean. And unlike a bad workman I won't blame my tools.
Surrounded by faster cars and drivers an open pitlane day is for this TD virgin quite an intimidating environment.
Driving the right line in principal is easy, in practice surrounded by faster drivers I'm experiencing sensory overload while doing it all wrong. Braking too lightly too late, turning in too soon. In short overdriving leaves me feeling underwhelmed.
Learning curves? More like a vertical straight line. Fast in slow out, go immediately to the back of the following track pack.
Track dunce in the naughty corner.
In the pantheon of great drivers I will not be compared to the great Al Unser.
Around the 3.6 miles of Bedford I'm more Al Zheimer, after 3 laps I'm still not sure what corner will be appearing next.
What I am certain of is that this is fun, my bargain FoMo V6 is quick enough, its Recaro's super supportive and that my overall priority is not spoiling the fun of others. There's some very fast machinery out here.
Racing Radicals, Caterhams, M3's, 911's all appear and disappear at a startling rate. Sticking to the right and keeping out of their way seems to be the best line to take.
Keeping my foot hard down while my eyes glued to the side mirrors on the straights takes its toll.
Time I think for a change of role.
Exit pit lane on right.
Stand in wings and admire other actors.
End of Scene 1 Act 1.
Act 1 Scene 2.
Brother Breadvan suggests a couple of pax laps in his Z3M. Good idea.
1999 Z3M - 105K miles, he's likes it so much he's owned it twice. Resident in London SWxx its a bit of a pampered pavement princess but he pedals it pretty hard at weekends. Today a case in point.
The first time I drove it back in 2010 I was still enjoying my 964 back in New Jersey.
After a quick go with his 300 bhp straight six shooter my garage queen flat six seemed a trifle...well flat.
Then again Norfolk is a very different daily driving environment to the suburban maze that is NJ. Nor is the home county of Colmans mustard that flat in the tasty places we know.
The Zbreadshed is a place, like Norfolk, enjoyed best when you can really unwind it. Though unlike Norfolk you can't really stretch out in it, hard seats, limited leg room and a similar analog dial count to 911s.
Slightly more than 2 laps later and I've learned a lot from the man who thought taking a 993 tiptronic to a drift day was a good idea. We all make mistakes in life.
But their only mistakes if you don't learn from them and he promptly saw the light and bought the Zbreadshed back again.
End of scene 2.
Cheers
Whatty.
Coker said:
A very enjoyable read, cheers 
Thank you Mr. Coker.Just a bit of fag packet doodling on my part, appreciate your comment.
Bedford Autodrome October 25th.
Act 1 Scene 3
M3 CSL SMG
The old adage that variety is the spice of life seems to be holding as true for me today as the rest of my sabbatical 2014. Busy weekdays and now a busy trackday. Made all the better for the opportunity to sample a variety of rides in a relaxed atmosphere of shared automotive pleasures.
In fact there is more key swapping going on here than at a suburban dinner party.
I'm content to be along for the rides if not a ride. As it were.
After the Z3M the E46 CSL is more my new-father-role thing.
Sensible four seater tintop with two pedals and a bit of carbon roofing thrown in to show the cognoscenti that it’s not just another E46.
Fixed cloth Recaro's feel a lot more supportive than the Zedshed benches but lack the supple leather give of my FoMo's 'caro recliners.
Rhetorical question. Am I revealing a deep seated Recaro fetish?
Putting my soft furnishing fantasies aside we're off for a few laps. The SMG 'box that made me wince on a time-wasting test drive one Stateside Saturday immediately feels like the only answer to track related questions that I'm not really qualified to answer.
Any chance to ponder further is sadly interrupted by a vibratory sensation caused by warped discs. Dammit I was just getting warmed up and now we're running at 50% to cool them down. Home James best spare the horses.
Act 1 Scene 4.
Porsche GT3 RS
Seems like the 3rd sector world that is the business of charity is enjoying a bit of a renaissance.
Not immune to dropping a few coins in the bucket myself I enjoyed my first Pork fest courtesy of the Sporting Bears Charity Club at Snetterton.
A ten quid donation to a worthy cause found me giggling in the passenger seat of a duck tailed but battered 911 club racer that slithered to and fro for 4 laps one damp November afternoon in the late '80s.
I'm not sure if it was the engine noise or the unique view twixt those front wings but from then on this pimply youth of old was smitten.
Fast forward to 2014, acne and sadly 964 free I'm metaphorically shutting the door on the memories of past Porsche and actually closing one on the mother lode of Mezger engined 911's.
GT3 RS - road and track weapon. It gets better, a week from Halloween, Lucifer is at the wheel and we might just be going to hell in his handcart.
Having left my Big Book of Evo Phrases behind I'm left speechless as we carve our way through what might be the perfect PH smorgasbord of mixed machinery.
Late braking into the tight Turn One on the heels of a Radical might just be the pinnacle of my passenger career.
Any car bloke or blokette worthy of the name should really experience something like this before shuffling off their adjustable coilovers. No amount of late night Youtubing can replicate the first hand sensation of what this thing can do in the right hands.
The engine noise alone is worth flogging a kidney for, providing the cornering forces haven't rendered both of them useless. Always an admirer of Porsche brakes I'm practically dangling in my seatbelt into the corners as Lucifer happily whips his way around while I'm just inwardly laughing at my good fortune to be sat here.
A mere four laps and I'm spent, hooked on the speed and also a bit peckish.
Lunch, there is no substitute.
End of Act One.
A short intermission spent reflecting on my morning while refueling on bangers and mash with a modest helping of V-Power pudding for the Mongrel.
:Note to self: When exiting pub car park do not automatically drive on wrong side of road as though on track. The former 'U.S home' line doesn't ring true.
Sorry fellas.
Act 2
Scene 1.
Still Bedford, still chilly, FoMo driver’s seat heater broken.
Having seen my betters at work I put a few more laps in and begin to relax a bit and even improve on my morning’s hesitant performance. The corners become more familiar and the long back straight seems a bit shorter as my lap count increases. Bar an interesting moment as an impatient GTR scythes past mid corner I feel a bit happier in my new surroundings, albeit with a few pangs of frustration as I overcook it in the slower corners.
Scene 2.
Z3M Drivers seat.
'Neither a borrower nor a lender be' is not a bad axiom to follow when presented with the keys to another bloke's ride. Even when they're family.
At this location, based on the logic that everyone is going in the same directon and are concentrating the risk factor appears reduced, the odds of a safe return in one piece better despite the speed quotient.
The FoMo managed an indicated 115 when I risked a look. And while the GT3 RS saw 155mph the closing speeds on track seem quite benign without the usual roadside reference points of hedges, junctions and passing traffic.
Then again, you bend it, you buy it.
At present we need to buy a house, Ms Whatty will not be thrilled if I present her with a crumpled car of any make rather than a new UK home to call our own. In fact she'll be f
king livid.Best adjust right foot pressure .
Not easily done in the Z3M's tight RHD footwell. In fact my size 11 plates seem more like my lunchtime mash helping; too big.
And why, in the Ultimate Driving Machine, is the left foot rest way down in comparison to the clutch pedal? Low volume production tooling I guess. Ergonomics matter to me more than the other 95th percentile I suppose.
Despite my shoe size the Zedshed is a hoot easily steered at both ends. The engine really is the star of the show. Those M blokes knew what they were doing back in the day.
Scene 3.
997 Turbo mit PCCB's
The last time I sat in the seat of an automatic Porsche was Spring ’10 at a PCA Club Race Lime Rock Raceway in Connecticut
The lunch break saw the local OPC offering demonstrator rides and while Ms Whatty blagged pax laps in Cayman S I drew the short straw with laps behind the wheel of a Panamera. Compared to the long but taut drive up in the Bilsteined 964 the short drive in the Panamera seemed a bit too limo like.
Still I got to chauffeur while Auto -Only Ms Whatty had to mumble her excuses to the Cayman instructor when offered the wheel . We'll work on that in time.
Back at zee Autodrome I'm confirming what more powerfully built PH directors already know, money gives you options. In this case ceramic brakes plus a few other goodies I don't have time to note because ......... f
k me this is a 'genwine' NASA rocket ride. 
Even with 80k+ miles behind it the Turbo manages to launch me, still digesting my sausages, at the next corner with ease.
Just when my lunch catches up the carbon brakes induce similar indigestion to the GT3 RS albeit coupled with a fragrant aroma of extended leather.
And on the subject of smells I can safely say that not once did I feel fear at any speed with any of Bro'Breadvan & Co. or any other trackista.
Testimony to good old British common sense and road craft.
Scene 4.
VW FoMo V6.
Four more laps and with the sun setting I know I’m done, unlike those days in New Jersey on I-78 Westbound when I would come over all Thelma and Louise and just want to quit my day job and keep on going.
Today, in the UK, with friends and family and more adventures like today ahead I know I’m a very lucky man.
Still, sun not quite set over yonder Exige so time for a few more bangin’ GT3 RS laps.
Curtain.
Cheers
Whatty.
Edited by Whatty on Tuesday 4th November 21:31
November 5th 2014.
Guido Fawkes bonfire night. Could be a damp squib, raining cats and dogs.
Its Barbour jacket weather - 'The Best British Clothing For The Worst British Weather'
I collect advertising copy and strap lines like other folk collect old Ferrari's and Porsche automobilia.
Handy really, advertising copy takes up much less space and I've been hauling my little collection around for years, mostly in my head. Went quite well with the old 24/7 day job.
The job kept the wet stuff off my head over the last 21 years.
Bit of a professional rolling stone, I've rattled around eight abodes with some suitcases, lots of books but not enough down time.
I've lived in crumbling clay lump cottages, anonymous aluminum condominiums, a plastic horse barn and finally in cahoots with Ms. Whatty a flood prone 1920's Craftsman style Bungalow in New Jersey which nearly electrocuted me physically and very nearly drowned us financially.
So now back in the Old Country Ms Whatty and I have found a new roof to shelter under while we start writing our freelance career chapters.
In this neck of the woods ‘new’ is a relative term.
We’ve both owned some old money pits over the years, cars and houses alike. So some hard time consuming lessons learned we’re playing the smart but short game.
We like the house, it even has a road trip story of its own to tell.
Red car, white trimmed shed, blue oval, very patriotic.
Rather than tempt fate I’ll keep Mum till the conveyancing planets align and we finally flash the cash.
Having bought the oil cooled car I always promised myself and then reluctantly sold it in the name of fiscal responsibility I am today counting my blessings.
Back in 2008 I very nearly blew a large chunk of my hard gotten gains on a 2 year old Porsche Cayman S (Artic silver, Sports seats, Sports Chrono ).
Fast forward seven years.
So, previously un-sellable old house sold, new old house on the horizon, modest fleet on borrowed driveway. For now we’re hopefully heading in the right direction.
Old houses + old cars = cash + hard work.
We like all four.
Ms. Whatty likes to create things. I like project cars.
Marque not really important.
This year’s sole effort. Formula Junior Single Seater.
Short angry Anglo American driver, no time or budget. Don't laugh.
C Minus - Could do better
So we’ll need a plan and some cash. And some tools.
Mine are mostly budget Sears Craftsman with the odd Harbor Freight breaker bar thrown in, reflective of my amateur automotive status.
Can't lurk here in the cosy virtual corner of PH Readers Cars much longer so time to head out on real roads, renew old acquaintances, establish new networks and start multiple income projects.
In this weather the FoMo Golf's low key AWD looks like the better professional bet for today.
The V6 sounds great, the Firestone shod Haldex system feels surefooted and despite being 98 in dog years the old Mongrel still scampers around quite well.
It needs to.
Very wet roads. But as my dear old New Jersey pal and '76 911 owner Mike might say this doggie ‘HAULS ASS’.
As a track day tool with me at the wheel we made for a timid combo. On these old familiar greasy B roads we're rapidly getting our sh!t together.
And to continue the canine theme this is one Deutsch hound that won’t be wagging its tail too much.
Which is a good thing because, like my irascible pal Jersey Mike, these bucolic hedge lined lanes do not suffer fools gladly. Blind S bends, deceptively radii'ed corners and small but sump smashing bridges can catch out the unwary.
Note to self: Must secure wobbly fixed camera mount.
And meeting one of these Big Boys on the wrong side of the road at speed will result in pig like squeals. Unlike John Boorman’s classic film tale of rural folk, ‘Deliverance’, your demise here probably won’t feature a dueling banjo's sound track.
Though the tractor driver will have C.B radio in the cab and 'Smokey and the Bandit' on VHS if not DVD.
Possibly Waylon Jennings or Kenny Rogers on the tape deck.
Guido Fawkes bonfire night. Could be a damp squib, raining cats and dogs.
Its Barbour jacket weather - 'The Best British Clothing For The Worst British Weather'
I collect advertising copy and strap lines like other folk collect old Ferrari's and Porsche automobilia.
Handy really, advertising copy takes up much less space and I've been hauling my little collection around for years, mostly in my head. Went quite well with the old 24/7 day job.
The job kept the wet stuff off my head over the last 21 years.
Bit of a professional rolling stone, I've rattled around eight abodes with some suitcases, lots of books but not enough down time.
I've lived in crumbling clay lump cottages, anonymous aluminum condominiums, a plastic horse barn and finally in cahoots with Ms. Whatty a flood prone 1920's Craftsman style Bungalow in New Jersey which nearly electrocuted me physically and very nearly drowned us financially.
So now back in the Old Country Ms Whatty and I have found a new roof to shelter under while we start writing our freelance career chapters.
In this neck of the woods ‘new’ is a relative term.
We’ve both owned some old money pits over the years, cars and houses alike. So some hard time consuming lessons learned we’re playing the smart but short game.
We like the house, it even has a road trip story of its own to tell.
Red car, white trimmed shed, blue oval, very patriotic.
Rather than tempt fate I’ll keep Mum till the conveyancing planets align and we finally flash the cash.
Having bought the oil cooled car I always promised myself and then reluctantly sold it in the name of fiscal responsibility I am today counting my blessings.
Back in 2008 I very nearly blew a large chunk of my hard gotten gains on a 2 year old Porsche Cayman S (Artic silver, Sports seats, Sports Chrono ).
Fast forward seven years.
So, previously un-sellable old house sold, new old house on the horizon, modest fleet on borrowed driveway. For now we’re hopefully heading in the right direction.
Old houses + old cars = cash + hard work.
We like all four.
Ms. Whatty likes to create things. I like project cars.
Marque not really important.
This year’s sole effort. Formula Junior Single Seater.
Short angry Anglo American driver, no time or budget. Don't laugh.
C Minus - Could do better
So we’ll need a plan and some cash. And some tools.
Mine are mostly budget Sears Craftsman with the odd Harbor Freight breaker bar thrown in, reflective of my amateur automotive status.
Can't lurk here in the cosy virtual corner of PH Readers Cars much longer so time to head out on real roads, renew old acquaintances, establish new networks and start multiple income projects.
In this weather the FoMo Golf's low key AWD looks like the better professional bet for today.
The V6 sounds great, the Firestone shod Haldex system feels surefooted and despite being 98 in dog years the old Mongrel still scampers around quite well.
It needs to.
Very wet roads. But as my dear old New Jersey pal and '76 911 owner Mike might say this doggie ‘HAULS ASS’.
As a track day tool with me at the wheel we made for a timid combo. On these old familiar greasy B roads we're rapidly getting our sh!t together.
And to continue the canine theme this is one Deutsch hound that won’t be wagging its tail too much.
Which is a good thing because, like my irascible pal Jersey Mike, these bucolic hedge lined lanes do not suffer fools gladly. Blind S bends, deceptively radii'ed corners and small but sump smashing bridges can catch out the unwary.
Note to self: Must secure wobbly fixed camera mount.
And meeting one of these Big Boys on the wrong side of the road at speed will result in pig like squeals. Unlike John Boorman’s classic film tale of rural folk, ‘Deliverance’, your demise here probably won’t feature a dueling banjo's sound track.
Though the tractor driver will have C.B radio in the cab and 'Smokey and the Bandit' on VHS if not DVD.
Possibly Waylon Jennings or Kenny Rogers on the tape deck.
Edited by Whatty on Friday 20th March 07:05
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